


Make It Count

by MeganMoonlight



Series: You Never Know (Dragon Age Prompts) [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Crushes, Cute, Developing Relationship, First Meetings, Grey Warden Alistair (Dragon Age), Grey Wardens, M/M, Rare Pairings, Warden Carver Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:33:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27371233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganMoonlight/pseuds/MeganMoonlight
Summary: The story of how Carver and Alistair met, and how Carver almost confused hero worship with having a crush.
Relationships: Alistair/Carver Hawke
Series: You Never Know (Dragon Age Prompts) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/413220
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8
Collections: Rare Dragon Age Queer Ships





	Make It Count

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andrea_deer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrea_deer/gifts).



Carver Hawke looked around the camp as the other Wardens set up tents, cleaned their weapons, and chatted between themselves. 

They were on their way to Jader, where, according to the Warden-Constable who was leading them, they were supposed to regroup and wait for the next orders from Warden-Commander Clarel. Rebuilding the ranks of Ferelden Grey Wardens would definitely take time, and while Carver was still not very fond of Orlesians, Orlesian Wardens did offer to help them with setting up new camps and sharing what resources they could spare.

Scratching the back of his head, Carver propped his sword and shield on the tree trunk next to him and took off his gloves to warm his hands in front of the fire.

“Have we met before?”

Carver blinked a few times, surprised, and looked up at the man who was standing next to him.

He was watching Carver closely, most likely assessing where they could have met before, and when he sat down on the same tree trunk, Carver frowned slightly.

Since he had joined the group only a few days earlier, he was still unfamiliar with majority of people he was now traveling with. Jean-Marc Stroud, the Senior Warden who had been leading his old team decided that Carver was still fairly new, so he should spend some time around other Wardens to give him more idea of how their order worked. It hadn’t taken Stroud much time to decide that Carver’s skills could be useful during an upcoming trip to Jader, even though Carver had repeatedly disagreed with his opinion.

Carver wasn’t happy about being sent to Orlais, he had complained about it more than once, but he couldn’t exactly do anything about it, could he? He had a job to do, didn’t matter how much he would prefer to do literally anything else right then.

They had been traveling for four days and not many of the Wardens from his new squad paid much attention to Carver, unless it was to ask him to do something or give him the latest orders. That was why he was a little bit surprised by the other Warden approaching him in the first place.

“I don’t think so,” Carver muttered, thinking that it would be the end of the conversations. As it turned out, he was wrong about that, apparently.

“Kirkwall!” The man exclaimed finally, a bright smile appearing on his face right away. “You were in Kirkwall, weren’t you? I knew you looked familiar.”

Frowning slightly, Carver tried to recall where he could have seen the other man. Before he was forced to join the Order he had seen a few Wardens in Kirkwall, true, but he was sure he had never seen the man standing before him among them. Was it possible that the man had seen him in passing while he had been in Kirkwall? If yes, the fact that he could even remember Carver was a bit disturbing.

“I didn’t know you joined the Wardens,” the man said, propping his sword next to Carver’s.

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Carver replied, turning away from him.

“Oh, Sorry.”

With the corner of his eye Carver saw the other man rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He was sure the man would get up and leave him alone after that, but to his surprise, the other Warden stayed where he was and took out a small pouch from somewhere next to him, before offering it to Carver.

“Dates.”

Suspicious, Carver glanced at the pouch, but before he realized what was happening, he was reaching inside to take a few dates. The other Warden did the same and popped one into his mouth right away, still smiling.

Carver turned his head awkwardly, before eating one as well. It was good. It had been a few months since he had any.

“I bought them when we were passing Markham. Next time I should remember to get more. Every time I think I got enough I end up eating almost all of them in one sitting.”

“They’re good,” Carver muttered, chewing slowly on the last fruit.

“They are, aren’t they? A friend of mine told me where to get the best ones. He always knew where to get good food. I still don’t know how, but he and his son, Sandal, they always prepared the best food.”

That was what caught Carver’s attention. “Wait. Sandal?”

Was it possible? He was aware, of course, that more than one person named Sandal could live in Ferelden or Free Marches, but he had to ask, just in case.

“Sandal Feddic?”

The other man blinked a few times, clearly surprised as well. “Yes, that’s him.”

“But that means you must be…”

“Oh! Oh, sorry. I’m Alistair. I can’t believe I didn’t even introduce myself. I just assumed you knew. Well, yes. Sorry,” Alistair rubbed the back of his neck again, and only then did Carver really looked at him. 

“You knew the Hero of Ferelden,” Carver muttered, perfectly aware of the fact that he was openly staring now. How could he not, though?

Only after a few seconds did Carver notice that the expression on Alistair’s face changed then. As he glanced down at the ground, a slight frown appeared on his forehead briefly, before disappearing just as quickly as it appeared.

“Yes, I did,” Alistair said quietly, and it took Carver longer than he would have liked to realize that it was probably not a subject the other man wanted to talk about, considering everything that had happened. “I honestly thought someone must have told you when you joined. I don’t really talk about it often, but if you want to…”

“No,” Carver interrupted him right away. Seeing the expression on Alistair’s face quickly curbed Carver’s curiosity. “It’s fine.”

Oh, Carver had questions. A lot of them. Bodahn had often told him stories about the time he and Sandal had spent around the Hero of Ferelden, and Carver loved listening to them, but meeting Alistair in person? The other Warden had been there during the Battle of Ostagar, and the Battle of Denerim. He must have had dozens of stories to tell, and Carver would love to hear them one day. Now, however, Alistair looked like talking about it, or about the Hero, was the last thing he wanted to do, and Carver didn’t want to make the other man even more uncomfortable than he already had.

“I was just surprised,” Carver told him after a while, realizing that the silence between them most likely became more than awkward. “Do you… do you know when are we going to arrive in Jader?”

_‘What kind of question was that, Carver Hawke? If Bethany, or even worse, Garrett, had heard you now, they would have never let you live it down. Get a grip, you ass.’_

“Oh, a week, give or take?” Alistair glanced in the direction of the tents, where the Warden-Constable was talking to the Wardens who were usually responsible for rations and their resources. “At least according to what I heard in the morning. If anything changes, they’ll let us know, don’t worry. So, one more date?”

Carver took one more from the pouch. “I’m Carver, by the way. Carver Hawke.”

After that first, undoubtedly awkward interaction, things between them became slightly more comfortable. Slightly.

Whenever Alistair and Carver saw each other, Alistair would smile and make sure to talk to Carver, or wave at him when they didn’t have time to chat, because their assignments often kept them busy.

It honestly didn’t take long for Carver to develop a crush on the other Warden. At first he thought it was just a case of hero worship, because knowing his history, it was a relatively safe assumption. Alistair was a skilled warrior, he was brave, and he always made sure that his fellow Wardens were protected whenever they ended up encountering an enemy. However, Carver soon realized that glancing at Alistair’s lips whenever the other man smiled, or at his hands every time he was carrying wood or crates of resources, was not a sign of hero worship at all.

As things usually went for Carver when it came to romantic relationships, though, his feelings were predictably unreciprocated. While Carver had to keep reminding himself to not look at Alistair more than it was absolutely necessary, or not talk about him too often, Alistair’s didn’t seem to have such problems. After all, what would a man such as Alistair see in Carver?

Carver Hawke wasn’t as well-read or gentle as Bethany had been. His twin’s easy-going and approachable personality had often drew people in, and he still remembered the few times when he had wished he was able to do that, too. 

Carver also wasn’t like Garrett, who was effortlessly charming, and whom people admired and wanted to be around, even when he made an ass out of himself. He hated to admit it, hated it with every fibre of his being, but he was jealous of how easy it was for Garrett to talk to everyone, how he always somehow knew what to say, and how more often than not he could talk his way out of almost everything. 

Maybe if Carver possessed even one of these skills he would be able to actually pull himself together and ask Alistair is he would maybe consider…

Consider what, exactly?

Going on a date with Carver, when they didn’t even know how much time off they would have between assignments? Take a walk with him, when they were surrounded by woods and could possibly be attacked at any turn? Get a meal together, when they were surrounded by other Wardens at almost all times, and Carver knew better than to offer to cook anything? He briefly imagined the possibility of asking Alistair to go swimming with him, or to share a tent, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Feeling himself flush, Carver ran one hand through his hair, cursing himself for his inability to talk to people he found attractive.

What also wasn’t helping at all, was that one day he had accidentally caught Alistair washing his shirt and trousers in a nearby river, and since then he couldn’t get the image of the other man’s chest and well-toned legs out of his head. Since when Carver noticed people’s legs? Since he saw Alistair’s, apparently. He was convinced Alistair hadn’t caught him staring, but that didn’t make Carver feel any better about it, honestly. It was stupid, though. He didn’t go to the river just to ogle Alistair, after all, right? An accident, that was all it was. And he had left as soon as his brain started working again. No big deal. Yes, he had seen plenty of other Wardens in various states of undress before, so he should have been used to it by then, but apparently not. While he found some of the other Wardens very, very attractive, seeing them did not make Carver feel like a stumbling, babbling idiot. Well, maybe except Amaya, but she was happy with her current lover, and Carver was not one to approach people who were already in relationships.

As they resumed their way towards Jader, and Carver had a chance to spend more time with Alistair, he decided that he should at least try to talk to the other man about his feelings before they reached their destination, because he had no idea if he would get a chance to do so after that. 

A chance to approach the subject occurred sooner than Carver would have expected.

The Warden-Constable asked a few Wardens to scout the area in search of herbs to replenish their reserves, especially since they haven’t been very big to begin with, and Carver and Alistair ended up being paired up together. A small, hesitant smile appeared on Alistair’s face as he walked up to Carver and handed him a waterskin. 

“Well, we get to explore the woods,” he said, adjusting the straps of his armour and checking his weapons. “We should watch out for spiders, apparently.”

“Why is it always spiders?” Carver asked, strapping the sword to his belt. “Why not a bunch of bandits? Even brontos would have been better.”

“Knowing out luck, we’ll stumble upon all three at some point,” Alistair answered, and Carver couldn’t help snorting at the comment.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised either.”

Two hours later, they’ve managed to collect two satchels full of deathroot and elfroot, and had been attacked only twice. Overall, it turned out to be quite a successful trip, and that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Carver found out how nice Alistair’s smile was when he talked about Bark, a mabari that belonged to the Hero of Ferelden. How was Carver supposed to stop himself from staring at the other man when he was smiling like that?

It was when Alistair decided to pick up some more herbs growing by the edge of the nearby lake, when Carver finally couldn’t take it any longer. 

“Alistair?”

Alistair stood up, still holding some elfroot in one hand, and when he turned his head to look at Carver, Carver walked up to him, determined.

He wanted to say something, let the other man know how he felt, just like he had been planning to do for a while now, but now when he stood before Alistair, his eyes darting between the man’s lips and the ground, it was like he forgot everything he wanted to say. Trying to pull himself together, he licked his lips briefly.

Alistair was equally quiet, and when Carver finally gathered himself and looked up from the other man’s lips to say something at last, he saw the look on Alistair’s face.

He had no idea which one of them moved first, and quite frankly he didn’t care much. All he cared about was the press of Alistair’s surprisingly soft lips against his, the feeling of Alistair’s tongue against his upper lip, and the coldness of Alistair’s gloves against his jaw, touching him ardently, yet shyly at the same time.

Carver was not a particularly religious man, but that one kiss? When he though of that kiss, it was almost like having a religious experience. Was it wrong to describe it as such? He didn’t care much. It was elating and breath-taking, and honestly, it had been a long time since Carver felt like that when kissing anyone.

When they finally parted to catch their breath, Carver licked his lips once again, feeling slightly dizzy, and he still couldn’t look away from Alistair. There was a slight flush covering the other man’s cheeks, and Carver was pretty sure his own face was equally pink right then. 

“Was I… I mean, was that okay?”

 _‘Could you sound any more awkward, you idiot?’_ Carver berated himself, trying not to cringe at his clumsiness.

“It was,” Alistair ran one hand through his hair, as if he had no idea what else to say. Then, he chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “Sorry, it’s been a while. I didn’t think you’d want to do that. With me, I mean.”

“I wanted to. I really wanted to.”

Alistair grinned then, and Carver couldn’t help it, he felt the corners of his mouth rise as well. 

When he moved to kiss Alistair again, it only proved that no daydream about kissing him did justice to reality, to feeling Alistair smile against his lips as he backed Carver up against the nearest tree.

He had no idea how much time they stood there, exchanging kisses and touches, but when at some point Alistair moved away from him slightly, Carver felt a strong urge to bring Alistair even closer, to press their bodies together once more.

“We should get back soon,” Alistair said quietly, his nose touching Carver’s, their lips still close. “The others might think we got ambushed on the way, and if they send out a search party, explaining everything will be a tiny bit awkward.”

Carver let his head fall back against the tree trunk, exhaling slowly. “You’re right. I just… I just wish we had more time.”

A shadow of something crossed Alistair’s face right then. Was it uncertainty? Regret? Something else entirely? Carver honestly wasn’t sure.

“We’ll make time,” Alistair muttered, before pressing the final peck to the corner of Carver’s mouth and stepping back. “It’ll take us a while to reach Jader, and we’re supposed to stay there until the Warden-Commander decides what our next move should be. We’ll make time.”

Nodding, Carver took a few breaths to compose himself, and started helping Alistair to pick up and secure the pouches of herbs they had carelessly dropped earlier.

They kept glancing at one another in silence, matching smiles not leaving their faces until they reached the Warden camp. As soon as they were noticed by the others, they had to answer a lot of questions about why they had been away for so long, and face more than one curious glance thrown their way as they walked towards the tents. All of it was worth it, though. Carver had a feeling that not everyone bought his story about finding a large patch of herbs and taking a longer route back to the camp to look for more, but no one called him out for lying, so he decided not to dwell on it much longer.

As they ate supper, Alistair and Carver continued to glance at one another, and a smile never left Alistair’s face as he talked to the other Wardens. It felt like everyone knew exactly what Carver was thinking whenever he looked at Alistair, making Carver feel slightly uncomfortable, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to stop watching the other man.

Alistair was right. They didn’t know how much time they had, where would they be sent next, or even whether they would be able to continue traveling together, but they would make every second they had together count.

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by the prompt given to me by [Andrea-Deer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrea_deer), as a part of our private fic exchange.
> 
> The prompt was:  
> Alistair Theirin and Carver Hawke - a religious experience
> 
> Writing this ficlet was an experience in itself, but I enjoyed it immensely. I love writing about Carver.


End file.
